From Beginning to End
by Jini
Summary: Some wait their whole lives to find that special someone. Some wait their whole lives just to be with them. AU. Sora/Tifa with some Sora/Kairi, Tifa/Axel and Cloud/Tifa.


Disclaimer: I don`t own Kindgom Hearts.

Summary: Some wait their whole lives to find that special someone. Some wait their whole lives just to be with them.

Author`s Note: I know how pretty rare this pairing is, but I`ve decided to give it a try anyways and I hope people do the same. This is for **SylverEyes** because she`s the one who`d convinced me that Sora and Tifa would be adorable together. And since her influences are _so _persuasive, this fic was made, ta-da! :P

Note, the setting is very, very AU. So no relations to the game whatsoever. Characters might be a tad OOC, but not by much I don`t think.

Anyways, enjoy.

* * *

**From Beginning to End**

* * *

Sora is five and Tifa is eight when they first meet.

She's a bundle of skinny arms and legs, dark hair and wine-colored eyes that melt like chocolate. And he's young and full of energy and nothing ever seems to ever hold his attention for more than a minute. But he sees her smile and he's hooked with just one look.

He drops what he's doing, throws his toys aside races down the stairs as fast as he can.

She's standing all alone by the path that connects his house to the other; wearing a pretty, white dress and humming a song he doesn't recognize but sounds pleasant to the ears. From this angle it looks as though the sun is shining more brightly, casting a golden glow just above her head, but it's the smile on her face that has him staring in awe.

"Are you an angel?" he accidentally blurts out, nearly startling her because she hadn't noticed him coming.

"What?" she says, blinking at him and he notices in her hand she's holding a dandelion.

"I said are you an angel?" he repeats his question. She just looks at him funny. "My mom says any time an angel comes to Earth they always disguise themselves as human beings."

She tilts her head the side a little as if studying him. "Who are you?"

He grins a wide smile, despite several front teeth missing. "I'm Sora. I live over there." He points back at the house. "So... _are_ you an angel?" he asks again.

She smiles then and he's never been so transfixed.

"You're a strange boy," she giggles, approaching him and he realizes that she's much taller than he is. "But no, I'm not an angel," she says with a shake of her head.

"You're not?" he says, sounding disappointed because he could have sworn she was.

"Nope. I'm Tifa." She points at the house next to his. "Daddy and I just moved next door." Her smile widens, showing her dimples. "Say, Sora, do you want to play?"

This immediately cheers him up. "I sure do!"

"Great! Come with me," she says and extends her hand out to him, which he does not hesitate to take. Her hand is gentle and warm, just like her smile.

She may not have been an angel, but Sora never stopped believing she was.

000

Sora is seven and Tifa is ten when Sora's dad builds him his very own tree house in the backyard. And he already knows the first thing he wants to do is show it off to her.

"Isn't it awesome?" he asks, looking at her eagerly for her reaction.

"Wow," she says, staring up at it in amazement. "It looks so cool!"

Her smile does the trick for him. "C'mon," he says, excitedly, taking her by the hand, "let me show you around!"

But Sora's friends aren't nearly as enthusiastic when he brings Tifa up with him and introduces her to them.

"She's a girl," one of them protests.

"Girls aren't allowed in here," says another with a glower.

"You better get out," says a third.

Tifa just looks from all three boys and then stares down at her hands, her expression a tad forlorn, and seeing the drop of her lips instead of a tug of a smile for some reason makes Sora feel strange inside. Unhappy. Hurt. Upset. Angry.

No one could treat Tifa this way. No one was _allowed_ to make Tifa feel this way, _ever_. And he promises himself that he'll make sure she's always, always smiling.

"Leave her alone," he says firmly, glaring at the three other boys. "This is _my _tree house and I say who can and can't come in. Tifa can come here whenever she wants because she's _special_."

He's pleased when none of the other boys can say anything to that. When he looks back at Tifa, she's standing right next to him, her expression imploring and meaningful.

"Do you really mean it?" she asks, softy, "When you said that I was special?"

Sora rubs his head awkwardly and he can feel the heat rise up on his face for reasons he doesn't understand.

"Well, yeah," he mumbles shyly but he forces himself to keep his eyes on her face, as if to let her know he's being serious, "You've always been special to me."

And then she's throwing her arms around him and holding him tight. "Sora, you're the bestest friend I've ever had," she says, beaming at him.

As he hugs her back, Sora can't help but feel a little special himself.

000

Sora is twelve and Tifa is fifteen when he realizes that maybe, just maybe, he might sort of, probably, like her as more than a friend.

Over the years she's gotten much more prettier, much more taller—although Sora swears he'll catch up to her height eventually—and much more popular than she already is. It was sometimes hard to get her alone or have a few moments with her because someone was always stealing her away from him, whether they'd be her girlfriends or boys from her school who want to ask her out. Sora doesn't know how to feel about the latter but it always manages to make his shoulders tense every time he sees or hears that another boy came by again.

But she's still the same. She still smiles that same beautiful way at him and still treats him like her best friend. Nothing's changed between them, except maybe how he feels about her.

It's after midnight and Tifa's birthday party had just ended. He hasn't given her his present yet—told her he'd give it to her later and to keep her window open.

So that night he sneaks over to her room using the tree that's between their windows to climb onto the other side.

"Tifa?" he whispers when he slips into her room. It's dark and he can't see his way around. "Tifa, it's me. Where are you?"

"Sora?"

"Yeah, it's me," he whispers again and blindly reaches out for her.

He feels her hand brush his and instantly tugs her along. She bumps into him in his haste and stumbles onto the floor. When she flips open the night light, she's on top of him and they are face to face. He can feel his heart start to beat faster and faster—her hair is tickling his nose and he can see the chocolate in her eyes, and staring into them almost makes him forget why he came there in the first place.

"Uhh... whoops?" he says, hoping he hadn't given anything away when he stared at her. She just laughs and musses up his hair.

"We better be quiet, otherwise daddy will come in," she says as she climbs off of him. She slips back into bed, looks at him again for a moment and then pats the spot beside her, smiling.

Sora nearly trips over his own two feet in his haste—making Tifa giggle and shush him. He sits beside her and does his best not to dwell on the fact that they're in bed together and she's wearing a night gown.

"So... you said you had a surprise for me," she says, grinning.

"Uh, yeah. Here," he says and holds out a small box at the palm of his hand. As she takes it and starts un-wrapping the paper, he is overcome by nervousness again, but he doesn't say anything and patiently waits for her to finish.

When she finally opens it she's just stunned. In her hands is a small heart-shaped locket with a matching silver clasp. It's old and worn but beautiful. Alluring. It was partly the reason he'd gotten it for her in the first place.

"I-I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything better. I didn't get my allowance last week," he says with a slight chuckle, "but I've been saving up all month for that." He watches as she opens it and gasps once she sees what's inside. "You've always said you wanted something to remind you of your mother, so that you wouldn't have to miss her all the time... And I also included your dad in too," he says gently, looking at the pictures of her parents opposite to each other, "I had to ask your dad if I could cut up some of your old photos—I hope that's okay."

Tifa places a hand over her mouth and still, she says nothing. Her silence is really starting to trouble him. But to make matters worse, she starts crying.

"Oh... oh no," he says, panicked. "I'm sorry, Teef, I thought you would like it—I didn't mean to make you upset—I'm so sorry, I'll—"

She leans over and kisses him on his right cheek, properly shutting him up.

"What are you saying?" she whispers, wiping her eyes. "This is the best birthday present I've ever gotten." Her lips curve into a smile. "Thank you, Sora. I love it."

His cheeks are painted red and for once he's glad it's a bit dark and she can't see. But he swears his chest is going to burst from having his heart beat so incredibly fast.

"You're welcome," he says, trying to sound normal, but it's hard to contain the stupid grin from showing on his face.

They stay up a bit longer, just talking and laughing and sharing stories, until they both fall asleep sometime in the night with their foreheads touching and pinkie fingers locked together.

Sora's right cheek stays warm till morning.

000

Sora is sixteen and Tifa is nineteen when Tifa gets her first boyfriend.

He's tall and gangly and has bright, red hair that's wild and stands on end; his eyes are emerald-green, but there's something in them that Sora doesn't trust.

The moment Sora lays eyes on the other guy, who has his hands wrapped around her waist and is whispering kisses against her cheek; Sora knows right away that he doesn't like him. Not at all. Absolutely not. Of all boys Tifa could have picked—and she has many to choose from—she picks the one boy that looked and spelled like trouble. And seeing him touch Tifa, always kissing her neck and grabbing her around the waist, only makes Sora's opinions of the other boy that much worse. Sora doesn't like him, period.

But Tifa insists that Sora meet him, and like any good friend Sora tries to be friendly. _Tries_.

"Sora, this is Axel. Axel, this is Sora. He's the one I've been telling you about," says Tifa, standing between both boys.

"Oh, you're the little guy that my Tifa grew up with," says Axel with a leer.

Sora does not like the words 'little guy' any more than he likes the words 'My' and 'Tifa' put together in the same sentence. In case no one's noticed, he's grown quite a lot over the years—he's still an inch below Tifa's height, but at least he's at eye-level with her now and still growing. No one ever thought he was younger than her every time they were together. They'd always assumed they were the same age. Until this guy.

Sora really wants to club the guy on the head and perhaps file a restraining order on him because he can't seem to keep his hands to himself. But he's doing this for Tifa, he reminds himself. So he stomps down on all the negative feelings and does his best to smile, although, quite truthfully, he succeeds with neither.

"Yeah that's me," he says with false cheer. "The little guy."

"Axel, stop touching me," says Tifa firmly, slapping Axel's hand away when he slid it beneath her shirt again. Sora feels a spike of satisfaction at that. "Well, I'm going to get another drink," she says, pointing inside. "I'll be right back."

Both boys watch her walk away, completely transfixed.

When she's gone, Axel whistles lowly, "Damn... she's smokin', ain't she?"

Annoyed again, Sora glances sideways at him. "You know, you better quit touching her like that if you know what's good for you," he warns. He doesn't mean to say this, of course, but he's sick and tired of watching this guy cop a feel of Tifa's rear and knowing no amount of 'don't touch me' is going to ever get him to stop.

Axel just looks at him with a raised brow. "What's it to you, kid?" he says. "Are you her bodyguard now?"

Sora shakes his head. "No," he says calmly. "But if you hurt her in any way I won't be able to guarantee your safety afterward. I promise you that."

Axel snorts. "Why, you're going to kick my ass or something?" he sneers.

Sora laughs, because this guy's clearly an idiot. "No, not me," he says. He points back at Tifa who is making their way towards them. "But she will."

"Hey, guys, so what did I miss?" she says as she looks from Sora to Axel.

Sora just smiles. "Nothing. Just telling Axel here that you're a martial arts champion and can beat up guys who are twice your size... or if they decide to mess with you."

Tifa laughs, half-embarrassed, half pleased, and tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ears. "No need to brag, Sora, gosh," she says with a roll of her eyes.

But Sora is looking at Axel, who has gone extremely quiet and smirks in triumph.

For the remainder of the evening, Axel limits his touches to hand-holding only.

000

Sora is eighteen and Tifa is twenty-one when Tifa comes bursting into his room, looking angry and upset, but above all, is crying.

"Tifa? What's wrong? What happened?" he asks, alarmed, because Tifa hardly ever cries. Not even that time she fell out of his tree house and broke her arm, she never cried—not even a drop.

Tifa's tough and can handle anything, but seeing her for the first time with tears running down her face puts him on edge. Nothing but the worst could have happened in order to make her cry like that.

"T-That stupid jerk!" she says as she sits in the corner and holds herself in her arms.

He's right beside her in an instant and taking one balled up fist in his hands.

"What happened?" he asks gently, although he has a sneaking suspicion it's about Axel again. It's always about Axel, he thinks a little bitterly. There's never been a day in the past two years since they've been together where Tifa did not come home, once, complaining about something about Axel.

Tifa glares at the floor. "He—he—cheated on me!" she spits out.

It takes Sora a full second to register this and when he does his insides are boiling and there's a distinct ringing in his ears. He's seeing red.

"He did _what_?!" he exclaims, furious, and he can feel himself starting to shake, hard. "I'm going to kill him," he growls, getting up.

"No, don't," Tifa sniffs, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him back. "He's probably long gone by now...and besides," at this she gives him a triumphant, blazing look, "I've already made sure he regretted it."

He takes a deep breath to calm himself. "You did?" he says and starts to smirk a little. "What did you do?"

"Let's just say he'll be walking weirdly for the next couple weeks," she says, looking immensely satisfied by this.

He feels a swell of pride overcome him. Of course, Tifa could take care of herself, he thinks smugly.

"I did warn him you'd kick his ass if he hurt you," he says. And then his face clouds over again. "But that's no excuse for what he did to you—I _warned_ him—"

"Oh don't," Tifa says with a shake of her head. "I don't want anything to do with him anymore. _Please_, Sora," she adds when he still doesn't budge. "For _me_."

Sora, reluctantly, sits back down again—the image of mutilating the sorry bastard limb by limb is still fresh in his mind, but he can't act on the impulse, not when Tifa is next to him, heartbroken and needs him to be there. So he takes a steady breath and then pulls her into his arms and lets her cry on his shoulder. And with each wretched sob, Sora feels a part of him hurt with her.

After I promised myself I'd never let you feel sad again, I let you get hurt, he thinks to himself regretfully, clenching his fists.

When she's calmed down, they're lying on his bed and her head's tucked beneath his chin and he has one arm slung across her waist. She's retelling him the story about what happened and Sora is silent, listening intently to every word.

"And that's not the worst of it," she mumbles later. "It wasn't just that one time. It happened _twice_!" She shakes her head and presses her face into his shirt, which is already wet and drenched through the cotton, but he doesn't care. "I don't even know why I stayed this long with him in the first place—we were always fighting." She sighs. "I'm such an idiot."

"No you're not," Sora says firmly, squeezing her. "You're the smartest, most beautiful person I know—anyone would be _lucky_ to be with someone as amazing as you. Axel is just an idiot."

The biggest idiot Sora knew—and if he ever met him… well, let's just say, Axel would definitely be earning himself a permanent residence at the hospital once he was through with him. But thinking about the redhead only makes him remember the two years Axel and Tifa have been together and how long _he _spent holding his tongue when he should have said something. He feels lousy as a best friend.

"He obviously doesn't know a good thing when he's got it. I know that if it was me... well..." he trails off and shakes his head.

Tifa props herself up on her elbow and looks at him. "You what?" she prompts quietly.

He takes a deep breath. "If it was me..." he says, and laughs slightly, "Well, first of all I'd be still be wondering if I was dreaming or not because wow… I wouldn't know what I did to ever get so lucky."

Tifa's lip upturns into a small smile, but she's still listening to him, still watching, and he can see her heart start to form in her eyes.

"I'd be asking myself, 'this can't be happening. No way can this be real. This beautiful, strong, amazing girl chose _me_?—wow, I can't believe it,'" he says, and his eyes softens. "But then I'd stop asking myself if this is a dream or to wake up because I probably won't want to after that."

"What happens after that?" she asks softly.

He brushes a strand of dark hair from her face.

"And after that I'd spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. To love you the way you deserved to be loved. Because if there's one thing I'm sure about, it's that your happiness means everything to me."

She stares at him for a long minute—and she has this unreadable look on her face but something about the way she's looking at him makes him unable to look away.

They're edging closer and closer—he can feel the warmth of her breath against his lips and he's slowly starting to drown in a mix of chocolate and wine and then there's that scent of jasmine and tea and everything Tifa that has him so consumed. Just a little bit closer and he'll be able to—

His phone suddenly rings and they're pulling away, just as fast.

He can feel his heart beating a million miles per minute and he doesn't know whether to be frustrated or relieved by the interruption but he's fairly certain the confusion and the disappointment will not fail to eat away at him later. He doesn't understand what just happened—or what almost happened or maybe what _didn't _happen, but the phone keeps ringing and neither one of them is saying anything, so he picks it up—it's his mom—but whatever she's saying doesn't sink into him because he's a many miles away.

Just as soon as he hangs up, there's that silence—that incessant, loud, big-elephant-in-the-room type of silence that just eats away at him the longer it goes on. He doesn't know what to do with her back because she still hasn't turned around and faced him.

He breaks the stillness. "T-That was mom," he says, trying to sound like everything is normal, "she says she'll bring home pizza… in case you want to stay over for some."

She finally turns around and there's a smile plastered on her face. "It's alright. I should probably get going now anyway," she says as she slides off the bed and heads towards the door. "Dad's still waiting up for me so yeah…"

"Oh. Oh sure—yeah, I understand," Sora says, lamely, following her. But once she's by the door, they have nothing to say to each other again. "Umm…" he starts, but doesn't know what to say after that either.

But Tifa takes that off his shoulders.

"Thank you for listening, Sora," she says, as she throws her arms around his neck in an embrace that nearly knocks him back—she has to tipy-toe slightly now due to the height difference—but Sora has always learned to accommodate for her. He bends down a little and scoops her up until her feet are barely off the ground, squeezing her back. "And thanks for cheering me up," she whispers in his ear, "You're the best."

"Yeah," is all he can say because everything else in his vocal cords is stuck. He tries not to sigh as he gently places her back down. "That's what I'm here for... to be your friend."

What he wouldn't give _not_ to be just her best friend anymore, he thinks, dejected. He wanted to be more.

Before she lets him go, however, she is grasping him by the arm and leaning up again—her lips pressing at the corner of his mouth. When she pulls away, he's staring at her in mild shock and she's smiling again, but it's a bit odd. She's searching his eyes for something, but when she can't seem to find what she's looking for she just sighs, almost in disappointment and looks away.

"See you around, Sora," she says and walks off.

He swallows down the lump in his throat. "Yeah, see you," he says.

As soon as she's gone, Sora throws himself on the bed and hopes to God he can finally find the strength to let these feelings go, even though, deep down, he knows he won't.

000

Sora is twenty-two and Tifa is twenty-five when Sora feels like the world is about to come to an end. In the very bad sort of way.

Tifa is engaged. In other words, she was getting married. To some _other_ guy.

Sora blames himself for going away to study instead of picking a university that is closer to home. That maybe if he stayed she would have never met this guy—Cloud—gotten to know him and then decide, maybe, she suddenly wants to tie the knot with him.

He gets the wedding invite in the mail and nearly goes ballistic after reading it a couple hundred times to make sure he hadn't just completely lost his mind. Although he kind of wishes he had because anything was better than facing the possibilities that _this_ was actually happening—that this was all real. It takes him a couple days to fully process that yes, Tifa was getting married and that yes, he wasn't hallucinating—and that this all was very, very, disappointingly and one hundred per cent _real_.

It takes him another two days to stop denying it. She did mention she was seeing someone, but he never thought it was _this_ serious. But apparently she was if she was planning on marrying him now.

And then he's booking the next flight home with half-crazed and yet determined-filled thoughts of, "I have to convince her not to get married" and "I have to stop this wedding."

Over and over again until he's back home and Tifa's at her dad's and Sora is looking at this man Cloud in the face.

Cloud is the same height as him with blond hair and striking blue eyes that glow soft green every time he looks at Tifa. He doesn't grope Tifa like her last boyfriend; no, Cloud is polite, quiet and so very gentle with Tifa that it's a little difficult to hate the guy when he's treating the woman they both have in common with such love and affection like any normal, good guy would and should.

And Cloud _is _a good man, he discovers. Looking at Tifa, her face glowing and her brown eyes like wine—Sora can't bring himself to persuade her not to go through with this wedding, not when she looks so happy.

So he swallows his tongue and forces a smile—convinces himself that he can and _will_ be happy for her even though inside he's dying. He promises not to get in the way and that if he really and truly loved her like he knows he does then he'd do what's best for her and just let her go. If someone else made her happy then by God, he would let her go.

Except he finds out that he can't and everything goes downhill from there.

It's the eve of the wedding and he's suddenly standing by her doorway, hands sweaty and heart throbbing. The voice in the back of his head—the calm, reasonable voice that sounds an awful lot like Tifa—is telling him this is wrong, that Tifa is getting married and that he shouldn't still be trying to convince her otherwise.

He knocks on the door.

"Come in," she says.

And when he does, he nearly stops breathing looking at her. She's a vision in white with her dark hair twisted into a knot and curls falling passed soft, glowing skin. Around her neck is the locket he gave her on her fifteenth birthday.

"Oh, Sora, I didn't know it was you," she says when she turns around and sees that it's him. She makes her way to him and smiles brightly.

"Wow… you look beautiful," he says, unable to take his eyes away from her. _Like an angel_… he tries to bury that thought down.

She blushes but looks immensely pleased. "And _you_ look so handsome in that tux."

But truthfully, he feels stiff and tight in it—like he's about to suffocate. He shakes his head. "Can I talk to you? I have something to say."

Tifa fidgets a little and looks at the time. "Now?" she says. "But I've got to start going down soon. Can't this wait till after the ceremony?"

"No," he says firmly, "because by that time it'll already be too late."

"Is something the matter?" She frowns and puts a hand to touch his face, concerned. "You're awfully hot, Sora. Are you feeling alright?" she asks.

"I'm fine," he says, although he's far from feeling fine. He takes her hand and holds it tight.

Her frown deepens. "So then what's wrong?" she says, intertwining their fingers together.

"I…I…" he swallows the lump in his throat and in his head he can hear the voice screaming for him to stop—to just back off and walk away. _I can't_, he thinks back, frantically. Try as he might he can't let her go. "Look… Tifa, h-how long have we known each other?

She blinks a little—obviously that is not the sort of answer she's been expecting—but she answers him anyway.

"Eighteen years… I think?" she says, thoughtfully, "I don't know—it seems like almost forever—"

"Yes, it has," says Sora, nodding, "we've always been together. Through the good and the bad. And you must know I'd never _ever_ do anything to hurt you and that I'd always be there for you, no matter what—"

"Yes, I know that…I've always known that… more than anything else," she says softly, squeezing his hands, "but Sora, what's this about? I don't understand."

He takes a deep breath. "You can't go through with this wedding."

It takes a full second for her to stare at him in disbelief and another full second for her to process what he's just said.

"What?" she says, voice barely audible.

"Don't go through with the wedding," he repeats, although the words are so hard to say—he has to spit them out.

"You're serious," she says, staring at him incredulously.

He nods. "I am. Which is why I don't want you to go through with this wedding."

"_That's_ what you've wanted to tell me?" Now she's looking upset; angry. "How—how can you say something like that?" she demands. She tries to yank her arm away but he holds on. "And on my _wedding_ day—"

"Tifa, please, don't," he says, feebly, "Please don't—"

"Sora," she says, her voice rising now, "let go. I don't know what you're doing or _why_, but this has to stop. _Now_."

"You can't marry Cloud," Sora says weakly.

"And why not?" she snaps.

"Because… because _I _love you," he says and he swallows up her surprise—slips his hand at the back of her neck and meshes their open mouths together in a sudden kiss.

It's awkward at first as neither one of them are prepared, but then as he eases into it his mouth slowly starts to move and her lips gradually does the same. And it's mind-boggling. Amazing. _Right_. And it feels better than anything he's ever felt before—more than the fall, more than the moments and more than the actual dreaming because this _is __real_. This is right.

Nothing else in the universe could ever prepare him for just how incredibly right this feeling was. Her lips are so soft and pliant and wet that he completely melts into her; hands coming around to cup the side of her face and encircle her waist, drawing her near and she doesn't resist. Her nimble fingers are tugging tight on his shirt, hands weaving through his hair and he shivers and kisses harder.

The kiss grows heated and fierce and each one manages to take his breath away and then give it back. She was the only real thing, the only one holding him to Earth and yet making him feel like he was a floating a million miles away.

A knock at the door breaks them apart.

"We're about to start in five minutes," says a voice behind the wood.

"I-I'll be out in a sec," says Tifa just as soon as she finds her voice again.

Her cheeks are flushed red, her eyes bright and her lips bruised, but Sora doesn't have time to admire how beautiful she looks from his mussing because she's looking at him again—this time her expression is one of horror.

"What have we done? What have _I _done?" she whispers, backing away from him before he can reach her. "You… you… and I," she takes a deep breath to calm herself, "I _can't_. This is _wrong_. My fiancé is waiting downstairs for me and I—"

"Please, Teef, don't… don't go through with the wedding," he pleads quietly. "I kissed you and _you_ kissed _me_—"she flinches at the memory, "that has to mean something—"

"It was a mistake," she says, her voice distant and hollow.

"You… you can't mean that," he says, eyes growing wide. "You can't." She looks away. "Tifa," he says, grasping her by the arms, "_what_ do you feel about me?"

"Sora, stop," she says, squirming.

"What do you feel about me? I have to know," he says, still holding her. She doesn't say anything and still refuses to look at him. "Do you have any idea how _I_ feel about _you_—"

"Sora," she says, and this time her tone is beseeching. Scared even. "Don't."

"I love you," he persists. "I _love_ you—so damn much that I—"

"_Stop_." She squeezes her eyes tight. "Don't say anymore. Please… just stop."

His shoulders sag, suddenly defeated. He doesn't say anything for a long time and then, "Stop? Believe me, I've tried," he says solemnly. "Almost every day in fact. The other days I'm just hoping you'll eventually feel the same way about me—"

Tifa's brows furrow and her lips press together in a thin line. "Sora. _Please_."

"But I _can't_ stop," he says with a bitter laugh. "No matter what I do or how hard I wish, I just can't _stop_. I'm _in love_ with you, Tifa—"

"I said stop saying that!" she snaps, her voice a tad desperate.

"Why? It's the truth!" he flings back. "I'm over-the-moon crazy about you, Tifa! I _always_ have been—ever since we were little—"

"Stop, stop, stop!" she says, shaking her head firmly and covering her ears to block out his voice. She looks like she's about to cry. "Please don't do this right now. _Please_."

There's another knock at the door. "Tifa? Is everything okay? Everyone's waiting."

"C-Coming," Tifa calls again and walks passed Sora to the door. She stops when she places her hand at the knob. "W-We can go back. We can try to forget this ever happened…" she says, her voice sounding a tad hopeful.

He feels hollow inside and he can't muster any emotion in his voice. "I can't go back. If you go through with this… I won't be able to watch," he says and looks at her, this time with a different kind of hope in mind. "I can't see you get married to someone else."

Tifa takes a deep breath but doesn't look back; her shoulders are shaking. "Then I'm sorry," she murmurs, voice barely audible through the trembling and the evident tears, and runs out the door.

His heart breaks. He's had dreams about this day—about when he'd finally tell her how he felt, only in his fantasies she was always telling him she felt the same way, not telling him no and walking out of his life forever.

And Sora can't do anything else but watch her go.

000

Sora is twenty-four and Tifa is twenty-seven by the time he meets her again.

He just graduated from university and is on his way own home to see his parents.

His mom is looking pleased to see him, but there's something in her smile that gives Sora the notion that she's up to something. When he steps out onto the back patio outside, he realizes why.

_She's _standing by his old tree house, barefoot and wearing a blue summer dress that stops just passed her knees. Her hair is down, falling passed her shoulders and down her back like silk; and there's that perpetual glow on the top of her head, like an angel's halo. The sight is beautiful and takes his breath away. It's so surreal, so unnatural, that for a moment he wonders if maybe he's dreaming or making this up.

But she turns around and dispels that notion. She sees him standing there and smiles—that same gorgeous smile that turns her eyes into chocolate and it's beautiful.

And yet she looks different somehow. She's thinner, smaller—her cheekbones more prominent and there are faint shadow lines just below her eyes. She looks so changed and yet so completely the same.

Then again, he hasn't seen or heard from her in over a couple of years so a lot has probably changed about her since then. He knows that a lot has changed about him too. He wonders if she's noticed that.

She hangs back shyly to the side as if not quite sure if she should approach him or not—or if she was even allowed to be there.

Sora thinks she has proper reason for feeling uncertain; they didn't precisely left things in good light the last time they've spoken to one another. A lot _has_ happened between them, he knows—some that can never be taken back—but this was Tifa. Tifa whom he's known since he was five; Tifa who was his best friend, Tifa whom he'd do anything for.

No matter what came about their friendship, he knows that that would never change.

He offers her a smile and meets her half-way.

And she slips into his arms, so readily and so perfectly, and he's overwhelmed by warmth and light and Tifa. The smell of jasmine and flowers are so strong it almost makes him dizzy, but he just inhales deeply and holds her tighter. She fits here, he thinks as she buries her face against his chest, like a piece of a puzzle that's been missing and has just been put back into place.

"I've _missed_ you," she says, her voice slightly muffled by his shirt and it brings him back to reality.

Sora laughs and squeezes her arms. "I've missed you too, Teef," he says and she just sighs, content.

When she pulls away, her eyes search his face. "When I heard you were coming back, I had to come see you. You've been gone for so long—you've changed so much."

"You think so?" he asks, scratching his cheek.

"Yes!" she says, laughing, and her smile is so wide he can see her dimples, "Look at you! You're gigantic! What have you been eating, Sora? Some kind of protein bar that makes you grow like crazy?"

Sora laughs. "Maybe I am," he teases. "I did tell you I was going to outgrow you one day."

"Mission accomplished," she teases back. And then her expression sobers. "You aren't that little goofy kid I met when I was eight." He doesn't know why, but his heart stricken a little at that. "I wonder what else about you has changed…"

"Nothing much," he says, partly in truth but also partly to reassure her, "I'm still me." He smiles softly. "I'm still your Sora."

"Yeah, my Sora," she agrees softly, and he can see her heart in her eyes again. "I'm glad for that." But her smile still looks sad. "You stopped writing to me so I wasn't sure what to expect," she says and her voice sounds almost regretful.

He feels a flicker of guilt. "I'm sorry, Tifa," he says gently. "After what… happened…between us, I didn't know if you wanted me to write you back—"

She takes his hand in hers and shakes her head. "No, no, _I_ should be the one apologizing," she says, squeezing them, "We didn't exactly end things very well, did we?"

Sora shakes his head. "Unfortunately, no," he says quietly. He looks at her and realizes just how much her absence has cost him. How much her absence has cost _them_ and their friendship. He missed her, to put it simply—he's _been_ missing her for these past two years. "Why don't we start over?" he suggests.

"I'd like that," says Tifa eagerly with a nod. "There's so much I want to tell you—"

"There's so much I want to tell you too…" he murmurs in agreement.

They stare at each other for a moment until Sora lets out a breath he's been holding and takes a step back from her.

"I… I heard about you and Cloud," he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. It's suddenly cold outside, despite the weather being so warm and so close to summer. "I'm sorry that things didn't work out between you guys." At her wide-eyed, blank stare, he explains with some hesitance, "My mom told me you guys split up a year ago."

"Huh? O-Oh, yes, that," she says, clearing her throat. She looks a tad relieved by something, although Sora can't imagine what. She musters a smile from somewhere and says, "Yes, it was unfortunate… but it… was for the best, I think."

He's feeling guilty now for possibly overstepping his boundaries and saying things he knows he shouldn't be saying.

"I'm sorry. You probably don't want to talk about this," he replies hastily. "I didn't mean to—"

She laughs lightly and waves this off. "It's alright—that was a long time ago," she says, and there's a sad, faraway look in her eyes as she says this. "What's passed is passed."

"Are _you_ okay though?" he asks, staring at her meaningfully. "When I found out about the divorce… I wanted to come see you, " _so badly_, he thinks but doesn't utter that out loud; he glances down at his shoes and kicks a rock with the sole, "but I didn't know if you even wanted to see me or not."

She bits her lip and she looks like she might cry.

"Tifa?" he says, alarmed. Out of instinct, he takes her hand and starts rubbing her knuckles soothingly with his thumbs. "Tifa, what's the matter?"

She shakes her head and steps aside. "N-Nothing. I'm fine."

"Tifa," he says firmly, making her look at him.

Her brown eyes are round, her lips thin. Absently, he brushes a couple strands of hair from her face and rubs his thumb over her chin.

"What is it?" he asks.

She swallows, but leans into his touch as if seeking warmth. "I don't know—it's just that I—"She stares at him, unable to go on.

He takes a step closer. "You what?" he says, quietly.

"A lot as changed… I… _I've _changed since you've last seen me," she says and he nods, urging her to go on. Tifa takes a deep breath. "That day you left—the truth is…"

"The truth is…?" And for some reason his heart is picking up speed.

Tifa's eyes are wide and they're looking hopeful and scared and it just pulls him closer. "Sora, the truth is I—"

"Sora!" the voice of his mother makes them jump. "Sora, Kairi's on the phone for you!"

Sora lets out the breath he's been holding as reality, once again, sinks back in. "Okay. Tell her I'm coming," he calls back.

He turns back to Tifa, who seems to have recovered from her mild scare and gives him a little smile.

"Kairi?" she says, trying to sound casual. "Who's Kairi?"

He doesn't know why he hesitates or why he suddenly has the urge evade the question altogether, but he knows can't lie to her. Not about this.

"Kairi... well, she's… she's my girlfriend," he says finally, not knowing why his voice sounds guilty. Apologetic.

Tifa seems to have frozen at that but then quickly recovers. "Oh, r-really?" she says, tone a little wobbly around the edges. "Y-You have a girlfriend now?"

Sora is feeling more and more awkward by the second. "Uh, yeah… we met at school. Went out a few times and well, decided to give dating a try. Turns out she lives around here too," he explains, carefully eyeing her reaction.

"Oh," she says again, and starts nibbling at her lower lip—a nervous habit she's picked up on over the years. Before he can ask what is wrong, she's smiling again, only it doesn't reach her eyes. "That's great news! I'm so happy for you. What's she like?"

He's a little taken back by the sudden change in behaviors. "Well, she's—well—"he fumbles on what to say, because Tifa's watching him closely and her smile looks so _weird_ but he can't pinpoint why and it's nagging him.

He clears his throat and tries to envision Kairi as he has done thousands of times in his head. Tifa's face disappears and is replaced by a smaller, more petite shape; soft, pale skin and a heart-shaped face.

He can feel silk, red hair between his fingers, the smell like strawberries flooding his nose; blue eyes like the sea, rosy cheeks and pink, full lips—and a laugh like honey and sweets. It was one of the first reasons he'd fallen for her in the first place—her laugh. It brought him at ease. And when she smiled, it was like sunshine and light; like everything was going to be okay.

"She's just… Kairi," he breathes out, because that is the truth. "Just Kairi."

When he opens his eyes, Tifa is standing by him with a knowing look on her face.

"Do you love her?" she asks.

Sora blinks a little as this question sinks in; because, quite frankly, he's never thought about it before. For so long it has always been Tifa in his heart—he had believed, for so long, that she'd always be the one for him.

But things are different now, he thinks. Things have changed, including his feelings. Maybe he just hadn't noticed when they started to change for someone else… _did_ he love Kairi? He wonders.

"I don't know if I do…" he admits finally and he looks at Tifa in the eyes, "…but I think that I might…"

Tifa's smile is so wide that it looks somewhat surreal, but when she speaks her voice is low and sounds so close to breaking, "Then I'm glad."

His heart reacts. "Tifa—"

She turns back to the house without saying a word, and all he can do is watch her walk away, like he has done so many times before.

000

Sora is twenty-six and Tifa is twenty-nine by the time he realizes that maybe, just maybe, he's been living a lie. The sort of lie one usually takes upon themselves to believe when they want to forget an unpleasant and rather painful ordeal (but won't even acknowledge even that).

He just doesn't understand how he's never noticed before.

Until now…

He's dropping stuff at his parents' house, where he's going to be waiting for Kairi to finish work so that they can eat out; however, he has a couple hours to spare and nothing else to do.

Automatically, he glances out his kitchen window to the house next door, where he spots the familiar flow of dark hair moving to and fro from room to room. Sora smiles and starts heading over.

It's been awhile since he's seen Tifa. Now that she's taken two sets of jobs while also caring for her father, who'd been ill for the past couple weeks, there is hardly any time for them to spend with each other. Especially when their moments together are short-lived as it is. She never sticks around too long for them to have a proper conversation and their phone chats are usually cut short due to something or other occupying her time; seeing her rush out the door or even hearing the end of a dial tone have become both common occurrences for him.

He rings the doorbell a couple times and waits. It takes awhile for someone to answer it, but as the door opens Sora feels his lips curve upward into a smile at the sight of the person on the other end.

"Sora?" says Tifa, who obviously she hadn't been expecting a visit. "What are you doing here?"

"Dropping stuff at my folks," he says, grinning. "What are you up to?"

"Just cleaning some stuff out for dad," she says with a shrug. "He's staying over at my uncle's for a little while so I promised I'd clean out the house every now and then."

"Oh I see," says Sora with a laugh, "So does that mean you're busy right now?"

She blinks. "Oh, well, no not really, but I—"

"Great!" he cuts in cheerfully and grabs her hand. "Let's go out for a bit—"

"Sora—"She hesitates at the doorway. "I don't know. I still have to—"

"That can wait, can't it?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at her. "We're only going to be out for a couple hours—"

Tifa bites her lips. "Sora, I—"

"I _promise_ it won't wake long," he assures, squeezing her hand. "Besides, I haven't seen you in so long. I _missed_ you, Teef—"She starts to smile which is the only encouragement he needs, "C'mon, pleeeasse, Tifaaaaa." He gives her the puppy-dog look. "You can't resist this adorable face."

Tifa laughs. "Oh, fine," she says with a roll of her eyes, making Sora grin, "but _only_ for a couple hours. I still have to clean out the closet."

"Yeah, yeah, you'll get to that boring stuff later," he says, waving this off and tugging her along. "C'mon."

"So where are we going?" she asks as he leads her to the back of his house.

"You'll see," he says until they are in the backyard, where his old tree house is.

"You're joking, right?" she says suddenly when he starts climbing up the ladder.

He laughs. "I'm not," he says. "I haven't been up here in _ages_."

Tifa makes a face. "That was before you grew into a giant," she points out. "I doubt it's going to fit you, let alone fit the _both_ of us."

"Aw c'mon, Teef, where's your sense of adventure?" he says, glancing down at her.

"Where's _your_ sense of practicality?" she says, exasperated.

He grins. "Hey, you used to be the wild type yourself—I can tick off the number of crazy stunts you used to make us do with both my fingers _and _toes," he says, watching her lips twitch in amusement. "C'mon, Tifa, for old time's sake."

Tifa expels a puff of air. "Oh, Fine," she grumbles, taking the first step. "But if we come crashing to the ground, I'm going to blame you."

"Don't worry, if we fall I'll be sure to catch you," he says, winking.

Tifa blushes heavily but looks away. "Y-You're so hopeless," she mutters.

Surprisingly the tree house holds their weight, despite it being quite small inside and barely able to fit him and Tifa all at once. But they somehow manage to find a spot that is comfortable for the both of them, even though it takes a few bumps and twists to accomplish a suitable position.

He's lying on his back and she's beside him, shoulders touching and elbows poking and legs half tangled and sticking out at the entrance, but they're comfy and they can see the stars through the hole in the ceiling.

And it's just like old times when he and Tifa used to sneak out passed curfew and spend the entire night out in the forte, forgetting as time went on that they should be heading back to bed. They talk and laugh about old memories and everything's wonderful and nostalgic and he's never felt so alive before. Really, he's missed this. He's missed _her_.

"Okay, my turn," he says, grinning.

"Okay," she says, turning to him.

"Your favorite memory of us," he says.

She makes a face. "I like them all though," she whines and he laughs. "But fine. If I had to choose one it'd be that time when we both got caught in that thunderstorm and we had to take shelter in that abandoned shack—do you remember that one?"

"Oh yeah," he says, nodding. He gives her a confused look. "But why that one? We were both so soaked. You even got sick!"

"That may be," she says, "but I hated thunderstorms—they used to scare the crap out of me. They kind of still do," she shivers and automatically he shifts closer to her. "But you stayed with me—you held me," at this her eyes softens as they roamed his face, "you told me everything was going to be okay and I believed you."

He can't look away from her eyes as she tells him this, "I've never felt so safe… so cared for before… and then I got sick and you were _still _around to look after me." She laughs a little, bit her smile looks a little sad. "It seems like every time I'm in trouble or when I'm sad or scared about something or hurt, you are always there, taking care of me."

"You know that hasn't changed," he finally utters. Watching her and listening to her talk of such things had stirred something in him but he doesn't know what. "I'm still here. I've always been here and I always will be—as long as you need me, I'll always be here for you, Tifa. I promise."

The look she gives him next is near heart-breaking. "No, you won't," she murmurs and sits up.

"Tifa," he scrambles to sit up too. "What's the matter?"

She takes a deep breath but doesn't look at him. "Aren't we a little too old to be making promises we can't keep?" she asks, trying to keep her voice light.

His brows furrow slightly. "What do you mean?" he asks. Then he frowns. "You think I don't mean it, is that it?"

"No, I know you do," she says quietly.

"Then what is it?"

"It's just… we're not kids anymore, Sora," she says, keeping her eyes trained ahead, "so much has changed. We're not the same people we used to be. A lot has happened."

"I know that. But I don't see what that has to do with what I said," he says, getting more and more confused.

"Don't you see?" says Tifa and there's a crack in her voice, "You're making those promises like you think you can keep them but you can't! You say you're always going to be there for me, but you won't!"

"Tifa," he says, sharply now and is grasping her by the arms, "what _is _the matter with you?"

"Your life is heading in a direction that I'm not—_can't_—be a part of," she whispers with a shake of her head and her eyes are so bright from unshed tears, "Do you think you can be there for me when you get married, Sora? Or when you have kids? Let's face it, you're heading that way already—Kairi is a great girl and I can see that she makes you happy. I don't want to come between that—"

"What?" he says, frustrated, because he still doesn't understand, "I don't get it! What are you _saying_, Tifa, talk to me!"

"Don't you ever wonder why it never worked out between me and Cloud?" she whispers and he takes a sharp intake of breath because he doesn't expect her to bring _that _up—not ever.

Ever since she came back into his life and they'd agreed to start over, things were still undoubtedly awkward and rusty between them. They couldn't quite pick up where they'd left off, and moving forward into rebuilding their lost friendship was just as difficult. For one, there was more distance between them, less closeness—like an invisible wall had been placed there, preventing either of them from reaching out to the other. Sometimes, instead of two old friends getting to know one another again, it felt more like they were two strangers who'd just met and were becoming duly acquainted with each other.

No matter what they seemed to do, no matter how hard they tried to crumble that wall that had formed during their absence, it always—some way or another—managed to build itself back up again. Sora just didn't know why.

He supposed with all that has happened between them in the last four years, reforming the bonds they'd once shared would clearly be difficult—there was so much they'd hidden, so much they weren't willing or were too afraid to say to each other. It wasn't ever said out loud, but Sora knew it was a mutual decision on both their parts to leave certain parts of the past behind them and try to start anew from there.

However, it was challenging—often times when he thought he was finally making progress with his relationship with Tifa, it was only to discover that they'd barely made it passed the starting line. He was a tad frustrated by this block. What were they doing wrong that they couldn't put their friendship back to good order? What were they missing?

In the back of his mind, he considered that maybe it was because they hadn't properly talked about that day yet—not exclusively at least. It was a sensitive topic of the highest degree, only Sora didn't know who was more unwilling to bring it up: him or her.

Besides… bringing it up could lead to other things—things Sora didn't think he was prepared to face just yet. He didn't want to admit it, but thinking and talking about that part of their past could open doors he wasn't ready to let open yet.

And here she is, after four years of avoiding the subject, bringing it out into the open.

"You want to know why?" she repeats. "It's because of _you_, Sora, that's why. _You_."

He backs away. "W-What… but I don't—"

"I … I didn't marry him, Sora," she says and his eyes widens in shock.

"No…" he says in disbelief, shaking his head. "My mom said you guys split up. You guys got a divorce."

"Your mom lied to you, Sora…"

"No… she wouldn't—not about this—why would she—"

"Because I asked her to," says Tifa.

All he can do is stare at her.

She takes a deep breath. "After I left you I immediately regretted doing it. But I was so scared and so confused I didn't know what to do—that kiss caught me so off-guard.

"But even when I was walking down that aisle, I was still back in that room with you; I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened or what you told me or about that kiss we shared. And when I was asked to take my vows, the only face I could see was _yours_. Only yours. And I _knew_… just knew that marrying Cloud would have been a mistake." She swallows. "So… I left. I ran.

"I went back to the hotel room with hopes that you'd still be there, but you weren't. You were gone," she smiles at him ruefully. "But still I chased after you. I went to your house to try to catch you but you'd already left. I went to the airport and searched for you, but by the time I figured out your station, your plane had already taken off."

It is like time is standing still for him, and everything she's telling him he's seeing through his own eyes.

"So, I took the first flight to your school which wasn't until a couple days after the wedding… I went to the boarding house you were staying at, but they said you moved out. And when I asked if they knew where you were staying, they said they didn't know." Her smile wavers and tears starts spilling down her cheeks. "Y-You changed your number, your address, _everything_… it was like you just disappeared or like you didn't want to be found…"

Sora swallows the lump in his throat because he remembers doing exactly just that. Disappearing. He didn't want to be found. Least of all by her.

"Then I heard you graduated and were coming back. I wanted to see you so I came here. I wanted to tell you everything—about what happened… a-about how I felt." She looks him square in the eye, her cheeks red under the wetness of her tears, but Sora feels as though he'd taken a blow to the chest. "Even though I knew there was just the slightest chance that you'd listen to me or even still felt the same way, I wanted you to know. That I was blind and stupid for not realizing sooner; that I was living a lie… that I've been madly in love with you all this time and never knew it until you left—"

Sora feels his breathing stop and his heart cease its incessant beating.

"I wanted you to know. But once again, I was too late," she laughs, but it sounds painful to hear, "you'd already fallen for someone else. I knew right then and there that I had no right to tell you anything—that I'd lost you, for good. I didn't want to hurt you more than I already have by telling you how I felt so I just kept it to myself. The last thing I wanted was to come between you and Kairi."

"Tifa," he starts out weakly, "I—"

"I thought I could be happy just being your friend. I thought maybe I could try to move on. But I couldn't stop," she says, looking at him. "'No matter what I did or how hard I wished, I just couldn't _stop_. I'm _in love_ with you, Sora—'"

He swallows as the repetition of his own words were relayed to him.

"Sora!"

It was Kairi; she was here.

Panicked, Sora looks to Tifa, whose brown eyes are so far away he doesn't recognize them anymore.

"Tifa, I—"

"You should go," she says, her voice hollow.

"But—"

"Sora, where'd you go?" Kairi calls from the backdoor.

"Well, now you know why you can't keep that promise of yours," she murmurs, getting up. Kairi's voice can be heard calling his name again, but Sora can't take his eyes off Tifa.

She smiles at him—and he can finally understand why they'd always looked so strained, so weird… so _hurt_.

"Do me a favour will you?" she asks, her voice breaking, "Don't… come after me anymore."

"Tifa—"

And she's gone; sliding down the ladder and dashing off.

Sora feels paralyzed to his spot, still staring at that place beside him where Tifa was once sitting—laughing, sharing stories and smiling at him.

She's in love with him? He thinks before pressing his face into his hands. He hadn't known. He'd never saw… but now that he thinks about—like really, really thinks about it—perhaps he _had_ known all along.

All those sad smiles, the forced laughs, those faraway glances he saw her shooting his way when she thought he wasn't looking; all those times she's left the room or had made an excuse to leave because Kairi was nearby or was coming over—it had to have meant something. The extra jobs she's taken on, the small conversations… the _wall_ between them… all of it, he knew now, was to run away from him. From her feelings. It was all because of this that she was gone and… he'd been blind. Even with the nagging suspicion in the back of his mind telling him what he already knew, he'd been _blind_.

Something at the end of tree house catches his eye, and forlornly he reaches over for it.

It's a box with the description 'photos' scribbled in black marker at the top flap.

Curious, he opens it and finds a stash of old pictures inside—all of which were taken during the course of his childhood and teenage days. It was slightly strange to be staring at a much younger version of himself and knowing that he'd once been this youthful and carefree and so blissfully naïve. It doesn't escape his knowledge that in almost every shot, none of them ever fail to include Tifa—she's in every picture with him, her unabashed smile on almost every page he goes through. Sora is finding it highly distracting as well as fascinating because, well, it has been so long since he's seen her smile—truly, truly smile like the way she does in these pictures.

He flips through more photographs until one in particular catches his eyes. It's of him and Tifa. He's sitting on one of the patio chairs as nameless people walk half in and out in the background and foreground, and he has Tifa on his lap, his arms encircled at her waist while her own were wrapped around his neck and shoulders. She's still a little bit bigger than him—he couldn't be any older than thirteen or fourteen years of age in this judging by his height and his stature—and her long legs stretched from over his knees, but he doesn't seem to mind one bit that it may be uncomfortable. It's clear on his young face that he's rather enjoying having her pressed so closely to him. They're in their own little world, foreheads touching, with wide smiles on their face, and eyes trained on no one else but each other's. There's a faint redness on his cheeks and if he looks closely Tifa has something similar on hers.

He can't remember having this picture taken—it looked as though it was done by accident or by secret by someone else. But he does remember the day though—with perfect clarity.

It is his parents' anniversary and they're celebrating out in the backyard. All the chairs have been taken and so he offered Tifa a seat on his lap. He remembers being so nervous asking her, but she doesn't hesitate one bit and plops onto his open lap like she's been doing it since forever. He remembers the warmth of her wrapped around him, the scent of jasmine and flowers in her hair and her eyes like melting chocolate. But most of all, he remembers her smile—so bright and beautiful that it takes his breath away—and it was all for him; no one else, but for _him_. _Always _for him. It was the reason why he'd fallen in love with her in the first place, her smile.

And suddenly it's like a switch goes off in his head.

He was still in love with Tifa.

He's had two, long years to forget about her and in just two short seconds all the feelings, all the reasons, all the memories he's left buried back on that day comes rushing back to him again—flooding him, overwhelming him, but most of all, reminding him that he never, not once, stood a chance. Not to this—never to this—and most definitely never to _her_.

Who had he been kidding? He'd been in love with Tifa for almost his entire life—had he really expect to be _over_ her, to really, truly forget about her in just the two straight years they've been separated—just like that? He was a fool—a damn, stupid, idiotic fool—for even once believing he'd stopped loving her, even for just a second.

"Sora?"

He turns his head with hopes that it might be Tifa, but instead it's Kairi, and his heart drops. He feels so sick with himself he can't bring himself to look Kairi in the eye. The wood squeaks as Kairi climbs into the tree house and crawls beside him. She places a hand over his.

"Sora?" she says, tentatively, but he doesn't answer her. She sighs quietly. "I just saw Tifa running from here crying." He flinches. "I figured something must have happened."

He doesn't answer and keeps his eyes trained on Tifa's face on the photograph.

Kairi looks at the picture. "Is that the two of you?" she asks. "When you guys were little?"

Again he doesn't say anything.

Kairi doesn't seem like she's expecting him to.

There's nothing but silence between them.

"You're in love with Tifa… aren't you?" she says quietly, after a long while.

Sora looks up at her, startled. But Kairi doesn't look angry or hurt by this. Instead her smile curves into a knowing smile.

"I can tell," she says, "Right when we first met, I knew your heart belonged to someone else. But I wanted to believe that maybe you'd eventually move on… that eventually you'd love _me_," she says and her smile becomes sad.

"You were always so faraway and distant whenever you were with me," she explains softly, "Almost like you were someplace else together and I couldn't reach you. But then you introduced me to Tifa, and it was like you woke up. Your eyes were so alive and you were _always_, alwayslooking at her. Watching her. You looked so happy just seeing her. Your smile—"Kairi chuckled, "well, let's just say you never, once, smiled that way at me before. And I knew right then and there that I wouldn't be getting what I wanted. I knew you were never mine to begin with.

But I still hoped," she says, smile still sad, "I still hoped you'd _see_ me eventually, but you never turned away. Not for a second. Your eyes were always on her."

"Kairi…" he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. He feels like scum—no, worse than scum; he knows deep down Kairi is hurting even if she isn't showing it. And it is all his fault. He bites his lip. "I'm sorry…"

Kairi laughs. "Don't be, silly," she says. "I knew this was coming eventually. Heck, everyone else knew. The only ones who still had yet to figure it out were… you two."

"But I don't know… things have changed so much between us, I don't know if we could—"

Kairi places a finger over his lips, cutting him off. "You love her, don't you?" she asks softly.

Sora looks at the girl who's loved him for the past three years, who was true to him, cared for him and had made him the happiest he's ever been in a long, long time. He'd never felt more cherished or more safe than he did when he was with her, that it was hard not believe he had actually been in love with her. But it wasn't the same—she still wasn't _Tifa_.

"Yes," he finally breathes, "I do." He's once again struck by the truth of those words. "I love her."

Kairi smiles. "And she loves you. You guys just need to stop running away and just _face_ each other."

"What if I lose her?" he whispers. "What if I lose her again?"

Kairi scoffs, surprising him. "Are you an idiot?" she says and Sora's eyes widen. "You fight for her, duh! If she means that much to you—and I happen to know for a fact that she does—then you'd fight for her. Chase her to the ends of the Earth, drag her back kicking and screaming—whatever! As long as you let her know why you can't afford to let her go one more time."

Sora eventually breaks into a smile. "You should be a motivational speaker or something," he says.

She laughs. "For dummies maybe," she says, poking him in the ribs.

He chuckles softly and then regards her seriously. "Kairi, even though it's come to this…don't ever think I'd never once loved you. I did—I _do_," he says, and he can't seem to speak properly anymore.

Kairi smiles back and there are tears in her eyes. "I know," she says softly as he pulls her into a tight embrace. He feels her tears soak through his shirt before she gives him a gentle but firm push back. "Now go after her, you dummy."

He presses a soft kiss to her lips. "Thank you," he whispers against her mouth, before sliding down the tree house and taking off in a run.

"Tifa!" He's at the front of her dad's house, ringing the doorbell, but no one's answering. "Tifa, open up, it's me!"

He looks over at the side of the house, but the windows are dark and there's no sign of anyone in there. He spots the tree between their houses and climbs it until he's sliding through the open window.

"Tifa?" he calls, but he's greeted by silence. He rushes up and down the stairs and checks every room, but there's no one there.

He curses and takes off again.

Where can she be? He thinks as he runs down the neighborhood and into town. He searches her workplace and then her apartment, but still no sign of her. He's growing desperate and anxious, thinking maybe she might have taken off and left again—maybe this time for good—but then he can hear the sound of thunder in the distance and it clicks. It all clicks. His heart skips a beat.

He makes another turn in the opposite direction and hopes that what he's looking for is still there.

By the time he gets there the rain is poring and he's soaking wet.

But to his relief it's still there. The abandoned shack that he and Tifa took shelter in from the rain all those years ago.

He pushes through the door and he sees her there, huddled in a corner with her hands over her ears, trying to block the sound of thunder. Seeing her does more to his heart than he's planned, and it's beating again—rapidly—but he's calm as he takes a tentative step forward.

"Don't go running off on your own," he says, causing her to look up in alarm.

Seeing that it's him causes a sharp intake of breath on her end. "W-What are you doing here?" she stammers, getting up. "How did you find me?"

"To come after you, of course," he says, taking a step forward. "And c'mon, I think I know you better than that, Tifa."

"I thought I told you not to come after me," she says, looking a little angry. "Sora, just go back—"

He gives her a mock-stern look. "You just told me you've been madly in love with me for years, run off while I was still in the process of jump-starting my heart and then now that I'm here you expect me to just _leave_?" he says, incredulously. "Especially when you didn't even give me any room to say anything?"

Tifa sighs. "Sora, look, you don't have to—"

"Oh, but I do," he cuts in, still with that air of seriousness, "I really do. And you're going to listen to me."

"Sora—"

"Once upon a time a silly little Boy met this beautiful young Girl, whom he believed was an angel sent from heaven," he begins as if he hadn't heard her. "They became good friends over the years—best friends actually—"

"Sora," Tifa says, biting her lip, "stop—"

"—until the silly little Boy realized that he wants to be more than that, that he's actually in love with Girl, " Sora continues, "—so for the next few years he does all he can to get Girl to notice him, only it wasn't that easy. She's a few years older than him, so he has a lot to cover—especially when Girl is so beautiful and other boys are always taking an interest in her all the time. Silly little Boy thinks Girl is out of his league, but that doesn't stop him from trying—even when he got older and he could have chosen to be with other people, Boy never once wanted anyone else. He's always wanted Girl."

"Sora…" Tifa says, and she looks down at her feet.

"Then Girl got herself a boyfriend and Boy was insanely jealous. Anybody with enough common sense would have probably given up—but not Boy. Boy still wanted Girl all for himself, as selfish as that sounds. Even though it hurt watching her be with another, he still wanted her and hoped one day she'd change her mind.

"And then Girl had her heart broken and all Boy wanted was for her to realize that he was right there—the one who would never hurt her or treat her the way other boys have tried treating her in the past, the one who'd _love_ her no matter what… was right there, beside her. Boy thinks maybe Girl _had_ noticed, maybe a little, but then Boy had to leave so he couldn't find out…

"When he came back, Girl was already engaged to a great guy. Boy thinks maybe he could persuade Girl into canceling the wedding… but even he could tell that she was happy. So he tries to let her go… he tries and tries, but he just can't. He loves her too much. So he does the selfish thing and tells her about how he feels on the eve of her wedding day."

Tifa shuts her eyes because she knows what's coming.

Sora takes a deep breath but plows on through.

"But Girl rejects him. And chooses to get married. Heart broken, Boy leaves town and runs away. Runs away from everything—from that day, from his feelings… from _her_. He just wanted to forget about her, he just wanted to stop feeling anything. So he lied… he lied to himself everyday for the past two years until he started to believe them. In fact he's lied to himself _so well_ that when he does eventually meet Girl again he's not only _ convinced _that he was finally over her, but that he had also finally stopped loving her as well…

"Two years go by and he still went on living that lie…" he utters quietly. "Until one day, Girl tells Boy something incredible, something that makes Boy open his eyes once and for all. He finds out that Girl never really got married, that actually she chased after him and searched for him for two years, and that," at this Sora turns and looks at her, but she doesn't look up, "all this time she's been_ in love_ with him…

"But of course, Girl has to be silly and run off before Boy even has time to say anything. But it makes Boy realize some things… some things that he's been neglecting for a very, very long time." He pauses for a moment and then, "Like how he _really_ feels about Girl."

At this, Tifa glances upward, finally; her brows have furrowed together but he can see the light slowly returning to her eyes again.

"Boy realizes that he's been an idiot. That he's been too scared, too cowardly and too blind to properly face Girl, and that all he's really been doing was running away. All this time Girl has been standing next to him, not once had he realized that nothing about the way he feels about her has changed. That he hasn't moved on at in the end, he's _still_ completely head-over-heels in love with Girl, and no amount of self-inducing denial was _ever _going to change that."

"Sora…" Tifa begins and she's looking sad, scared but mostly hopeful.

"With a little help from another wonderful girl, Boy finally plucks up the courage to do what he should have done a long, long time ago and that's to tell Girl he loves her. That he's _been_ in love with her ever since and has never stopped, not once. That he's sick and tired of watching her leave all the time and that he can no longer stand by to see her walk right out of his life one more time… because," he grasps Tifa by her hands, which are trembling slightly in his own, "he wants to be with her… forever… because he wants to be the one who makes her happy. But most of all, it's because he loves her… more than anything else in the world."

Tifa is openly crying now and automatically he reaches over to wipe them from her face.

He chuckles softly. "You never cry, Tifa," he murmurs. "What happened?"

"Idiot," she murmurs back, "how can someone _not _cry after hearing such a sad story?"

"It's not a sad story at all," says Sora, taking a step closer to her. "It has a happy ending."

Tifa looks up at him and he can see himself in her eyes; the wine is melting into chocolate.

"What ending is that?" she whispers.

"The kind where Girl finally lets Boy love her the way he's wanted to since forever," he says, starting to smile. He slips his arms around her waist and is over-joyed when she comes to him willingly, snaking her own around his neck to hold him close.

Tifa starts to smile too. "Do they live happily ever after?" she asks softly as he leans in.

"You bet they do."

He closes the gap between them; capturing her lips just as she stands at the end of her toes to meet him half-way. And it's mind-boggling. Amazing. Perfect. And _right_. He barely hears her gasp before he's pressing deeper, slowly and surely, and giving the kiss everything he's got and more.

Time falls away and he's gently pushing her down against the hay and the blankets while she doesn't let him go and is bringing him down with her. He comes to her willingly; hands roaming on every inch of skin, kisses more frenzied and desperate, and slick heat mounting while the world outside their cavern doesn't stop but goes on unnoticed by either of them. Because their world is right here, in that moment—with each other.

"I love you," he murmurs, looking into her eyes. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she murmurs back, before pulling him back for another kiss.

And he`s melting into her. He's floating. He's in the clouds and beyond.

He can taste Tifa everywhere, taste her on his tongue and his lips, on the edges of her exposed skin; and he can feel the warmth of her enveloping him from all around, tugging him closer, making him crave for more until he can barely breathe. The sweet smell of jasmine floods his senses while the softness of her skin brushes and scorches his with every lasting touch. And he's home. He's home. He's finally where he belongs.

And all throughout the night, they can barely hear the sound of the thunder and the rain.

000

Sora is thirty and Tifa is thirty-three when he wakes to the sun rising across his bedroom window.

He looks to his side where dark hair and soft skin are splayed against white sheets.

He smiles, slips his arms around her waist and pulls her to him.

She makes a small muffled noise from the move, but otherwise goes on sleeping, blissfully unaware. However, there's a distinct form of a smile playing on her lips and unable to help himself, he leans forward and kisses her—takes in that sweet taste of berries and tea and everything so very Tifa.

She peaks open one eye. "I was trying to sleep, you know," she says, but the smile on her face gives it all away.

He laughs. "Yeah, but you looked so tempting lying with nothing on that I couldn't help myself," he teases.

Tifa rolls her eyes. "Dummy," she murmurs but she's smiling.

"So _that's_ what you and Kairi call me when my back is turned," he mused. "And after all the free massages and kisses I give you, this is how you treat your adoring boyfriend?" He pouts at her. "I thought you loved me, Tifa. That's it, no more kisses for you."

Tifa laughs. "Oh, hush, you," she says, clearly amused. "You better get up. You're going to be late for work."

Sora sighs. "I don't want to go," he mumbles, staring at the ceiling. Then he brightens. "Hey, how about we go out today? Go someplace nice… someplace where we can be… alone?" he suggests as he starts to trail wet kisses down the side of her jaw and her neck.

Tifa gives him a light shove. "And risk you getting fired? I don't think so," she says.

"Aw, c'mon, where's your sense of adventure, Tifa?" he asks, going back to kissing her shoulder. "Besides, I'll make it worth your while…"

"Where's _your_ sense of practicality?" she shoots back, but doesn't push him away. "Plus, you'd have to give me a pretty good reason why we should suddenly play hooky."

"Because I want you ask you to marry me, that's why," he quips without a moment's hesitation.

"Of course, that would be—_what_?" Tifa blinks, staring at him because she's not sure if she's heard him right. "What did you just say?"

Sora just smiles and slips his hand under the pillow and takes out a small, wooden box.

Tifa gasps. "Is that… are you doing what I—oh my God, this can't be happening—"she can't continue as he opens it and there's a shining silver ring in the middle.

He takes it out and holds her hand. "Tifa, will you marry me?" he says.

Tifa just stares a little because she's still in shock; she opens her mouth but nothing comes out.

Sora rubs at the back of his head, for once getting showing his nervousness. "Sorry I couldn't get a nicer one," he says with a shaky laugh. "I had to wait do overtime at work and wait for five pay checks just for the down payment—I mean I've noticed you always staring at those rings at those shops, and while I know they aren't as grand as those ones, I'm hoping after a couple more overtime hours I'll be able to get you the one you've wanted. This … this is just a substitute ring until I get next month's pay check, I hope that's—"

He knows he's babbling but he can't help it. She still hasn't said anything, and what was more… she was _crying_. Tifa was crying. Oh no.

"I'm sorry, Tifa!" he says, suddenly panicked. "If you're not ready for this, then I completely understand—I can wait—I just thought I—"

She cuts him off with a lingering, meaningful peck on the lips.

"What are you talking about?" says Tifa softly when she pulls away, wiping her eyes. She's smiling; her eyes are like chocolate and there are dimples on her cheeks. "It's _perfect_. I _love_ it. I guess… I'm just wondering why in the world you took this long to ask me?"

It's Sora's turn to blink. "Huh… I guess I never thought about it that way," he says.

Tifa rolls her eyes. "Honestly, Sora, we've known each other how long?" she says, shaking her head. "Wasn't it obvious from the beginning that _this_ is where I've always been—where I've always _wanted_ to be? With _you_?" Her smile is teasing and her eyes are glimmering with mischief and light.

"I wasn't in any rush," was all he says while grinning. "Does that mean you're saying yes then?" he asks as he slips the ring through her finger, although he already knows what the answer will be.

"Yes," she breathes. And much more loudly, "YES, I will marry you!"

He kisses her, taking in her joy, her happiness, her love—everything—and giving it all back.

They'd started out their lives together, grew apart over time and then found each other again—like they were somehow meant to. It seemed as though they'd been waiting forever just to be together and now they had all the time in the world to do just that. But it wasn't the end for them, they knew. It was just the beginning.

"I love you, Tifa," he says against her lips.

She's smiling, he can feel it. "I love you too, Sora."

As the kisses grew more heated, he couldn't help but ask, "So… does this qualify as a pretty good reason to play hooky now?"

She just laughs and holds him tighter.

And Sora never had to let go, not once, ever since.

-

-

-

END.

* * *

A/N: Phew. This took me a few days to write. It`s another long one-shot—about 35 pages and over 16, 000 words on MS word document. I am clearly insane.

But I hope you guys liked it! Tell me what you guys thought of it—since this is the first time I`ve ever branched out from my typical Roxiri stories, I`d love to get some feedback. Characters, plot, development—were they all good? Were they okay?

Let me know! Remember, flames aren`t allowed, but I do accept constructive criticism. Thank you! :)


End file.
